


Right Here All Along

by halcyon1993



Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Armpit Kink, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, Come Eating, Coming Untouched, Daddy Kink, Dom Derek Hale, Dom/sub, Father/Son Incest, Handcuffs, Human Derek Hale, Incest, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Making Love, Older Derek Hale, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Rimming, Rough Sex, Safeword Use, Sex Toys, Spanking, Top Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 15:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13930053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon1993/pseuds/halcyon1993
Summary: Stiles has always been attracted to his dad, Derek. He watched for years as Derek dated others, waiting for him to see what was right in front of him. When Stiles is sixteen and his dad brings someone else home, he decides that enough is enough.





	Right Here All Along

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mulder200](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mulder200/gifts), [clavius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clavius/gifts).



> As always with this series, don't judge me for the depravity I have written...
> 
> This is all make-believe, but if the content of this PWP grosses you out or offends you, do not read it. You have been warned. Any negative comments that aren't constructive criticism will be deleted. That said, everyone else enjoy! :D

Stiles Hale arrives home from school and drops his bag to the floor just inside the front door. He is tired from a long day of learning and looks forward to spending the evening alone with his dad. It's his idea of perfection, but his hope is shattered by the peel of laughter that comes suddenly from the kitchen. Distinctly _female_ laughter. Fearing the worst, Stiles goes to investigate, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he can actually feel it. When he enters the kitchen, what he sees sucks all the air from his lungs, because it's just what he had feared.

His dad stands at the stove with a blonde woman, both of them facing away from him. They are close enough for their arms to touch, and they talk quietly to each other as they watch over whatever is cooking on the stove. Neither adult has noticed Stiles yet, so Stiles seethes quietly in the doorway and plots the myriad ways he can push this harpy out of their lives before she gets too comfortable. He doesn't think it will be difficult—this isn't the first time his dad has brought someone home, and Stiles got rid of all of them. He doesn't know who this new bitch is, nor does he care.

All he knows is that she can't stay.

"Stiles, you're home!" Derek says happily, turning around and finally spotting him.

"Yeah," Stiles says shortly, his eyes not leaving the woman as she turns around as well and smiles at him. It makes him sick, and he doesn't return it.

"Come on, I want you to meet someone."

Derek gestures for Stiles to come closer, so he grudgingly does so, walking around the island until he is on the same side as his dad and the blonde woman. She is objectively pretty, he can admit that much, just like all the others have been over the years. Her hair falls in waves down to her chest, over which is stretched a thin white tank top that her black bra shows through. Her blue jeans are tight as well, and in his head Stiles calls her a tramp.

"This is Kate Argent," Derek introduces them. "We've been seeing each other for a few weeks now and I figured it was time you met each other. Kate, this is my son, Stiles."

"It's nice to meet you," Kate says, proffering her hand.

Stiles stares her down for a few seconds before shaking it. Maybe it's just his possessiveness over his dad, but he senses something off about her, something that tells him she is even worse news than the men and women he has chased away before.

The way she stares up at his dad with heart eyes doesn't seem genuine. Stiles can't quite say for sure, but her gaze almost looks sinister, wanting—and not in the way it should. It sets him on edge. Because of the rest of their family dying in a house fire before Stiles was even born and the subsequent payout of their life insurance policies, his dad is now pretty well off, so maybe that's why.

"Alright, I think dinner's just about ready, so how about we move this into the dining room?" Derek suggests.

"Sounds good to me," Kate agrees readily, her cheer just a hair too much.

"You two get drinks and go ahead. I'll serve up the food and bring it in."

"C'mon, hun. We can get to know each other a bit better," Kate grins at Stiles.

For the two of them, she grabs a couple cans of Dr. Pepper from the fridge—which are all supposed to be Stiles', so that's another strike against her—and links her arm through the teenager's to drag him into the dining room. Stiles doesn't want his dad to get suspicious of him, at least not yet, so he reluctantly lets himself be escorted out of the kitchen. Just before they leave, though, he glances back over his shoulder and wonders what the hell his dad could have been thinking.

Stiles loves him with every fibre of his being, but the man can be incredibly frustrating. Doesn't his dad see what is right in front of him? Why does he insist on looking elsewhere for romantic companionship when Stiles is _right here_ , ready and willing? He has been for years, ever since he hit puberty and started to discover his sexuality.

While his male classmates nearly all talked about how pretty the girls were and how much they wanted to kiss them, the only person Stiles thought about that way was his dad. Derek was the prettiest person Stiles had ever seen—still is, no competition—and Stiles wanted to kiss him and only him. No one else caught his attention the same way. Even though society told him it was wrong to have those feelings for his dad, it didn't feel wrong to him and so he did nothing to try to get rid of them. He never worked up the courage to actually speak to his dad about them, but since the man hadn't dated anyone at that point, he was content to wait until the courage found him. He thought he'd had time.

He was so very wrong.

Everything changed for the worse just after Stiles turned twelve years old. His dad suddenly started seeing people, men and women both, in his search for a partner. He had sat Stiles down and explained that he hadn't done it before then because he'd wanted to dedicate as much time as he could to properly raising Stiles. But he felt that Stiles had grown up enough that he could understand and didn't need as much supervision, and Derek wanted a relationship again.

Stiles didn't show it, but he was angry. He loved his dad more than anyone else in the world, and he'd thought that his dad felt the same. He'd felt powerless when, a few weeks after their talk, Derek brought home a brunette woman called Paige. She was friendly and sweet, and Stiles could see why his dad liked her, but it was the image of her kissing his dad on his bearded cheek that galvanised Stiles into action. She had to go, so Stiles fabricated some text messages to make it look like his dad was cheating on her, and she'd left.

After Paige, there were four others: three women Stiles can't remember the names of and then a male deputy named Jordan Parrish. The deputy was the last person his dad had dated, and that was over a year ago. Since then, Stiles had been using that time to employ a few tactics in hopes of getting his dad to finally notice him.

Firstly, he'd started walking around the house completely naked. His dad protested in the beginning, but when Stiles ignored his protestations and kept doing it, he just averted his eyes instead. For the most part. Stiles was observant, and he didn't miss the glances his dad cast his way when he thought his son wasn't looking. He had looked ashamed of himself every time, but that didn't stop him from stealing more glances. It gave Stiles hope that maybe his dad _did_ feel the same and just needed some convincing that Stiles was alright with it.

Secondly, when he knew his dad was home, Stiles had started watching gay porn without his earphones, and he turned it up _loud_ to make sure his dad heard. He chose very specific porn, too, in which one performer was significantly older than the other. The loud exclamations of, "Harder, daddy!" were perfect for his needs, played into every fantasy he'd had of him and his dad together, but it didn't do what he wanted it to. His dad never said anything, just pretended that he'd heard nothing every time Stiles did this. The only indication Stiles had that his dad _had_ heard the porn was the redness of his ears, but that wasn't enough.

Lastly, Stiles supposed he needed more information about what his dad liked, so he'd sneaked into the master bedroom one afternoon and searched for clues.

And boy, did he find them.

Stiles had never looked behind the clothes in his dad's closet before, but he checked behind them then and found a treasure trove inside a large chest. It had a lock on the front, and Stiles had feared that he wouldn't be able to get into it, but that wasn't the case. The chest wasn't locked, and when Stiles opened the lid his mouth dropped open at the sheer number of sex toys and fetish gear he was presented with. There were dildos, vibrators and butt plugs of many sizes; cock rings; a cock cage; leather collars; ball gags; nipple clamps; blindfolds and a bondage hood; lubes and scented massage oils; restraints in the form of sturdy handcuffs and silky scarves and ropes; a set of sounding rods; floggers, crops and whips… It was seemingly endless.

Stiles hadn't known what to do with all of it. Thanks to the Internet, he was aware what it was all for, but he had never seen even a hint of his dad being into that type of thing before. It opened a whole new realm of possibilities, though, and without thinking about what he was doing, Stiles had grabbed an unopened bottle of lube and one of the smaller butt plugs from the chest and taken them with him when he returned to his own bedroom.

After a couple fingers' preparation, the plug went in with surprising ease, and the thought that he could very well have something inside of himself that had once been inside of his dad had him experiencing an orgasm that left him feeling out of it for almost ten whole minutes. When he'd finally regained the use of his limbs, Stiles used his laptop to do some scrupulous research into BDSM and found that he liked the idea of being a sub.

His dad's, specifically.

In fact, he _loved_ it. With this in mind, he'd adjusted the types of videos he watched to include BDSM scenes in hopes of enticing his dad, but again it wasn't enough.

As he sits down across from Kate at the dinner table, Stiles knows that he will have to stop playing games and just go for what he wants.

But first, Kate has to go.

* * *

It only takes Stiles two days to find the perfect way to get rid of Kate for good, and it involves far less planning than he'd thought it would. He sits in the living room with her phone in his pocket, which he'd stolen from her purse after she and his dad went out for a run about an hour ago. He'd seen her type in her password after the dinner he'd had to endure with her two days before, so it was easy to get into it and read through everything within. He couldn't believe his luck when he scrolled through her text messages and found exactly what he needed, the suspicions he'd had about her true intentions with his dad proven true.

Stiles plays some games on his PS4 to pass the time, a good tactic because, before he knows it, his dad and Kate get back from their run.

Derek is a vision of pure sex as he walks into the kitchen to get them both some water, shirtless, flushed and sweaty, but Stiles can't subtly enjoy the sight like he usually does because Kate is draped over him. He grits his teeth and turns back to his game, but he keeps watching the pair out of the corner of his eye and doesn't even notice when his character dies.

"I'm gonna take the first shower," Kate says, running her hand down Derek's chest.

Derek looks at her with a smile Stiles wants reserved only for him. "I'll get started on lunch then."

"Sounds good."

Kate waves at Stiles on her way through to the stairs, but Stiles acts aloof. He waits until she is gone before dropping his PS4 controller on the cushion next to him and getting up to join his dad in the kitchen.

"Hey, Stiles," Derek greets, emerging from the fridge with a head of lettuce and a packet of chicken breasts in his hands. "I'm doing grilled chicken wraps. You want some?"

"I'll pass," Stiles says, his palm covering Kate's phone in his pocket. "Thanks, though."

His dad doesn't miss his shifty behaviour and frowns, setting the ingredients on the counter to give his son his full attention. "Are you alright?"

"There's something I think you should see."

Derek looks confused until Stiles slides Kate's phone out of his pocket and unlocks it. Then he looks mad on Kate's behalf, but Stiles preempts any lectures or chastisement by quickly navigating to the Messages app and locating what he had found earlier. He holds out the device so that the screen is facing his dad. "Read this," he instructs.

"Stiles, what are you—"

"Just read it!" Stiles implores. "You can tell me off afterward if you still think you need to. I had my suspicions about Kate, and this proved them. She isn't who you think she is."

His frown getting impossibly deeper, Derek hesitantly takes the phone from his son and peers down at the screen. His beautiful hazel eyes fill with shock and hurt at what he reads, and while Stiles feels awful for putting that betrayed expression on his dad's face, he knows this was necessary and also derives pleasure from the knowledge that neither of them will ever see Kate again after today. He didn't even fabricate anything this time. The texts on the blonde's phone are all real, bragging to her brother about how gullible and stupid Derek is and how easy she thinks it will be for her to get her hands on his money.

"I can't believe this…" Derek whispers, putting Kate's phone down next to the lettuce.

"I'm sorry, dad." Stiles hugs him tightly, an embrace that serves both to provide comfort for his dad and hide his smirk from him. Covering himself in the musky scent of Derek's sweat is also a plus.

"I have to break up with her," Derek says, pulling away.

"Are you gonna do it now?"

"When she's out of the shower. You should make yourself scarce."

Stiles nods understandingly and puts his hand on his dad's large bicep. "Maybe, if you're up to it, we could do something later, just the two of us. Cheer you up a bit."

Derek smiles, but it seems he can't quite make it reach his eyes. "I'd like that."

Stiles hugs him again, knowing already what the something will be. "I love you, dad. You know that, right?"

"Of course," Derek says softly, tucking his chin over his son's shoulder and hugging him back this time. "I love you, too."

The two Hales stand holding each other for several minutes, until the sound of water running in the upstairs bathroom cuts off, indicating that Kate has finished showering. It's Stiles who ends the hug this time and, his courage bolstered by the success of the afternoon, he plants a kiss on his dad's bristly cheek, mimicking what Paige had done several years ago. Derek goes wide-eyed but doesn't say anything as Stiles leaves the room. He walks to the foyer and up to the first floor landing, where he passes by Kate on her way downstairs. He shoots her an evil grin before shutting himself in his bedroom, his back against the door.

For several moments all Stiles hears is silence, and then the yelling starts. Kate is apparently quick to drop her besotted façade, her voice shrill and unpleasant as she demands to know what Derek was doing going through her phone. Stiles can't hear his dad's reply, but a few seconds later Kate screams that he's an asshole and then the front door slams as she leaves.

Mission accomplished.

* * *

Stiles sits at his desk and does some of his math homework while he waits for the right time to put the next part of his plan into action. It shouldn't take long. He doesn't hear anything else from downstairs, so he assumes his dad is quietly processing his newest breakup with a beer or something. The thought of his dad wallowing like that makes Stiles sad for him, but he is sure that it will all be better soon, especially when the man finally stops being obtuse and realises that the perfect partner for him has been right under his nose the whole time.

Stiles will give him all the love he needs.

After an hour, Stiles thinks he has given his dad enough time. He drops his pencil on his desk, strips off all of his clothes and throws them in a pile in the corner of his room. Completely naked now, he gets out the stolen butt plug he had never returned and a bottle of his own lube. The anticipation of what he is about to do has Stiles' cock getting hard between his legs. He gives himself a cursory stroke before opening his door and crossing the hall to his dad's bedroom.

The door is open, so Stiles strolls right in, kicks it to so that his dad won't see him until he actually enters the room and then approaches the king-size bed. He runs his hands over the made-up maroon sheets and admires their softness as memories come to him. Many times as he was growing up, Stiles had crawled into his dad's bed under the pretence of seeking comfort in the aftermath of a nightmare. Every time was a lie. His sleep was always peaceful, but Stiles had just wanted to be close to his dad, to feel his arms around him and lose himself in fantasies that it was for another, better reason.

Well, very soon Stiles is sure that will finally be the case.

He pulls back the sheets and climbs up onto the mattress, positioning himself so that he is leaning back against the middle of the pillows. He doesn't cover himself, wanting his dad to get the full picture.

He strokes himself again, coaxing his cock to full hardness while he runs his other hand over his chest, twisting his nipples and scratching his short nails across his pale skin, leaving red trails behind. Like always, he imagines that the touches are from his dad's hands and not his own, and he very quickly feels an orgasm approaching. That would be far too soon, though, so he makes himself stop jerking off and fingers himself open for the plug.

Once it's in, he yells that he needs his dad's help with something and waits. He rearranges himself a bit, spreading his legs to make extra sure his dad won't miss his hard cock, and listens closely to the sounds of the man ascending the stairs.

"Stiles? Where are you?" comes his dad's voice from down the hall, no doubt from Stiles' bedroom.

"I'm in here!" the boy calls, swallowing his nerves.

The footsteps get closer and then the bedroom door is pushed open as his dad enters. "Stiles…what are you doing?" the bearded man enquires, frozen just over the threshold.

"What does it look like?" Stiles responds, stroking himself again.

Derek's eyes track the movement but then he stares stubbornly at the wall above Stiles' head. "Stop playing around and get out of here, Stiles."

"See, that's not going to work for me."

"I mean it!"

Stiles isn't cowed. He knows this is what his dad wants. The man is just denying it because he is hung up on social norms and morality and all that crap.

Stiles gets up from the bed and slowly approaches his dad, using the time to greedily drink in the vision he makes like he couldn't when Kate was there. Derek's hair is still damp from his run, curling around his ears and over his forehead. The only thing protecting his modesty is the pair of running shorts sitting low around his waist, which leaves so little to the imagination that he must be going commando. His chest, arms and the majority of his legs are left exposed, and the sight of all of that tanned, sweat-damp, hairy skin makes Stiles' cock leak pre-come where it swings back and forth in the air with each of his steps.

When he is standing right in front of his dad, Stiles wraps his arms around his neck and smiles up at him.

"Look at me, daddy," he implores, hoping the name will have its intended effect. It does, and Derek's eyes snap to Stiles', stunned, afraid and grudgingly lust-filled.

"Stiles…" the man breathes, looking unsure.

"I know you want me. It's okay; you don't have to be ashamed of it," Stiles reassures, running his fingers through the shorts hairs at the back of his dad's head. "I want you, too. I've always wanted you like this. Why do you think I walk around the house naked all the time? Why do you think I watch the porn I watch so loud that you can hear it?"

"I'm your father, Stiles. This is wrong."

"To other people, sure, but it's just us. It's always been just us."

"But—"

"Think about it, dad," Stiles barrels on, going for total transparency. "Why have none of your attempts to date worked out?"

Derek frowns, confused for a moment before realisation hits and he looks mad. "It was you?"

"I sabotaged every single one of them because I knew it was me you were meant to be with," Stiles confirms. "I knew it was _me_ you really wanted. I got rid of all of them except for Kate—she got rid of herself—and I'm not sorry for any of it. We belong together."

"I'm going to have to punish you for that," Derek growls, his voice deep.

Stiles bows his head in a show of bashfulness and looks up at his dad through his eyelashes. "Are you gonna spank me, daddy?"

"What? No! I'm gonna ground you, and we're never going to speak of this again!"

Stiles pouts. He takes one of his arms off of his dad's shoulders and palms his dad's cock through his running shorts before the man has a chance to stop him. Just as he'd thought, in spite of his denials, Derek is half-hard beneath the silky material, and he only grows harder as Stiles rubs over him teasingly.

"Just admit it, daddy," the teenager murmurs, bringing their faces close enough together that he can feel each of his dad's breaths. "You want me. You wouldn't be taking advantage of me or abusing me or anything like that. _I want this, too._ You're all I've thought about for as long as I can remember. There's never been anyone else for me. I want you to take me and fuck me and love me like I wanna love you."

"Stiles…I can't do that to you," Derek says, but he doesn't try to push Stiles away from him.

"Yes you can."

Impatient now, Stiles grabs the waistband of the shorts and pulls them down, evening the playing field. His dad's cock springs up huge and hard, belying its owner's persistent denials. Stiles wraps his hand around it and strokes it from base to tip, smearing pre-come over the head. Derek bucks into his grip, adding further proof that he is lying about not wanting this.

"Stiles, please don't," he tries one last time, his self-control wearing thin.

Not listening, Stiles rests their foreheads together and whispers, "Fuck me," against his dad's lips before kissing him with all the passion he possesses. It's sloppy and uncoordinated because he doesn't have any experience, but he can't find it in himself to care enough to be embarrassed. Not when his first kiss is with the love of his life and it's what causes his dad's control to finally break.

Strong arms wrap around Stiles and pull them flush together, their cocks rubbing together between their stomachs. Derek kisses his son just as hard, both of them battling for dominance. Stiles whimpers when his dad's tongue invades his mouth and he tilts his head just so, making everything so much better. Because Derek clearly knows what he is doing—and because he has finally given in—Stiles gives up the fight and becomes entirely submissive. He lets his dad take control and fists both of his hands in the man's hair while his dad's hands move up and down his back, making his skin tingle pleasantly.

Eventually, they both run out of air and Derek breaks away to refill his lungs.

"God, Stiles…want you so bad," he gasps, kissing his son chastely before sliding his hands down to his ass and then to the backs of his thighs so that he can lift him up.

Stiles wraps his legs around his dad's waist and doesn't complain as he is carried back over to the bed and unceremoniously dropped onto it. He bounces a couple of times on the mattress and then spreads himself out across it, letting his dad see every inch of him. The man stands at the foot of the bed and drinks in the sight of him, stroking himself and letting his son look at every inch of him, too.

Stiles eagerly does just that.

He marvels at how long and thick his dad's cock is, at least eight inches, maybe even nine. It's uncut, and just looking at his dad stroking himself makes Stiles moan, especially when the thought hits him that this is the cock that made him. It's a disgustingly hot thought.

"Damn, you're big," he gapes.

"Yeah," his dad grins, smug. "You want all of this?"

Instead of answering, Stiles makes grabby hands and says, "Just get over here."

Derek obeys, but he doesn't do exactly as Stiles wanted. Instead, he sits down, takes hold of his son's wrists and wrestles him over his lap, twisting Stiles' arms behind his back so that he has no leverage. Stiles is too stunned to try to fight back anyway. He lies docile across his dad's lap, his dad's huge cock poking him in the stomach, and turns his head to look up at him curiously, unsure if the man is actually planning on doing what the position suggests.

"What— Is this mine?" Derek asks, his dominant demeanour disappearing as he prods at the plug in his son's ass.

"Yeah…I stole it last year," Stiles admits.

"I wondered where this one went. So you saw everything then?"

"Uh-huh."

"And what did you think?"

Derek sounds apprehensive, so Stiles is quick to put his concerns to rest. "I didn't know what to make of all of it at first," he admits, "but then I looked into it and've wanted be your sub ever since."

There is a moment of silence, and then his dad palms one of his ass cheeks. "Good, but we have to set some ground rules. This isn't really a rule, but first I have to make sure: you're still a virgin, right?"

"Yeah. Wanted you to be my first. And only."

The hand on Stiles' ass stills for a second before moving, caressing the skin in such a way that Stiles can feel his dad's affection for him. "That's very sweet of you, baby," the man says, sounding both touched and aroused. "I admit, the thought of me being the first one to touch you like this pleases me. Now, on to the rules. First, you need a safeword. D'you have one already prepared?"

"Can't we just do the whole red-yellow-green thing?"

"We can. Do you know what they mean?"

"Green means I'm good, keep going. Yellow is take a break. Red is stop completely."

"Very good. Now, part of the first rule is that you actually use your safewords when you need to. This will only work if we're both honest and communicate well with each other. Don't just push through it because you think it will make me happy. It won't. If I do something you don't like, or if you need some reassurance or clarification before we continue, you _will_ safeword out and we'll talk about it. I want you to make me a promise."

Stiles nods. "I promise."

"One of the most important things in these types of relationships is that both parties trust each other, and this rule will help us maintain our trust. The same goes for me. If I'm uncomfortable doing something or if I think we're going too far, I can stop things as well, and again we'll talk about it until we're both back on the same page. This is true of any dom/sub relationship, but ours will be an unusual case. I'm still your dad first and foremost, and your safety and wellbeing will always be the most important thing to me."

Stiles agrees easily, everything his dad is saying making sense to him.

"My second rule is that, while we're in a scene, you will refer to me only as 'daddy', 'sir' or 'master'. Nothing else is acceptable."

"I'll stick with 'daddy'. The taboo's kinda hot."

"Very well. Rule Number Three is that, unless you need to safeword out, you do as I say whenever we're in a scene. I'm in charge here."

"Well, duh," Stiles snorts, rolling his eyes because that much was obvious. He startles when a hand fists in his hair and pulls his head back so that he can see his dad's face. It's an awkward position thanks to the fact that his arms are still pinned behind his back, but he doesn't actually mind it that much.

"This isn't a joke," his dad says sternly. "If you don't take it seriously, then we won't be doing this."

Stiles feels suitably chastised. "Sorry… I understand."

"Good." Derek releases his son's hair and returns his hand to his bare ass. "The fourth and final rule I have for you ties in to the third one, and that's that you don't come without permission. If you do, you'll be punished appropriately. We'll go over more ground rules later on, but I think those four are enough for now. Do you have any objections to any of them?"

Stiles doesn't like the sound of the last rule, but he shakes his head, placing his trust in his daddy to take good care of him.

"Okay," Derek says. "Before we get into our first scene, do you have any hard limits?"

The term rings a bell with Stiles, but he can't quite recall what it means. "Huh?" he responds eloquently.

"Hard limits are things you don't want to do or have done to you under any circumstances."

"Oh, uh…I don't really know."

"Alright, we'll work without them for now, but if you think of any at any point during this scene or later on, tell me immediately. I only have one hard limit myself, and that's blood play. Now, even though I get why you did it, I still need to punish you for interfering in my love life, don't I? And with you stealing from me, I have _another_ thing to punish you for. You should know by now not to take things that don't belong to you."

"Daddy, please."

"You want that, baby boy? Want daddy to spank you like you suggested?"

"Fuck yes. Please!"

"I don't know… I think you seem too eager. This is supposed to be a punishment."

Stiles whines. "I don't care…I just want you to touch me. Wanted it for so long."

"How many do you think you deserve?"

"I don't know. However many you want, just please do it!"

Derek hums thoughtfully. "I'm thinking five for every one of my relationships you ruined. How many is that?"

Having to do multiplication—even very simple multiplication like this—is difficult. Stiles' mind is made sluggish because of his arousal, but he somehow manages to do what his dad is asking of him. "Thirty, daddy," he answers. "Thirty."

"Hmm, so you interfered with my love life six times? You've been a naughty boy, baby."

"I'm sorry, daddy."

Derek squeezes Stiles' wrists hard. "Are you lying to me? Because I seem to recall you saying just a few minutes ago that you weren't sorry at all."

"Daddy…"

"I think that lie earns you an extra five spanks—and that's me being generous," Derek says. "With the stealing, that's forty in total. I want you to count each one, baby boy. Lose count and we'll be starting over again from the beginning. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand. Please, want you," Stiles whines, wiggling over Derek's lap.

"You remember your safewords?"

"Yes."

"What are they?"

"Green, yellow and red."

The first hit comes suddenly. One second, his dad his caressing his pale ass and then the next his palm comes down swift and forceful. If Stiles had thought his daddy would go easy on him at first, he was mistaken. Right from the get-go, Derek uses every ounce of strength he possesses to strike his son's ass, which, given his muscle mass, is _a lot_.

Stiles cries out at the first bright flash of pain, yet he keeps his ass raised up, wanting to take his punishment like a good boy. The pain catches him so much by surprise that he already forgets to keep count, which doesn't bode well for him further down the line.

His daddy has to remind him, and he squeaks out, "One!"

Derek spanks Stiles mercilessly, only pausing in between each swat so that his son can whine, whimper, stammer and sob out the next number. His palm rains down on both cheeks again and again and again, the pale flesh starting to redden before he has even reached the tenth spank. It gets more and more difficult every time for Stiles to keep track of which number they are on, the pain emanating from his ass eclipsing everything else.

By the time Derek has delivered the thirtieth spank, tears and snot are streaming down Stiles' face, and he can't stop it or even clean it off because his arms are still pinned behind his back. The tears only seem to spur his daddy on, though, and he loves the feeling of being completely at his dad's mercy, so he supposes it isn't that bad. Even though it hurts— _God_ , does it ever hurt—Stiles' cock never goes soft where it is trapped against his daddy's hairy thigh. He could probably come like this, but he doesn't try to.

A few minutes later, Derek spanks Stiles for the last time and immediately releases his wrists. He manhandles his son so that he is sitting in his lap instead and wipes the tears from his face. "Safeword?" he asks worriedly, running his other hand up and down Stiles' shaking back.

"G-green," Stiles chokes out, overwhelmed in a good way.

"You took your punishment so well for me, baby," Derek soothes, kissing Stiles' forehead. "Daddy's proud of you."

"Thank you…"

Father and son sit there for a few minutes while Stiles catches his breath. When he has, Derek manhandles him again so that he is lying down on his front in the middle of the bed, his head just missing the pillows. "Now, you keep being a good boy for me and stay right there, okay?" Derek instructs, leaving the bed. "We wouldn't want you to come without permission now, would we? So no humping the mattress. I have to get a few things, but I'll be right back."

Stiles obeys his dad, even though it's difficult. The pressure on his dick is maddening and he wants so badly to chase it, but he also doesn't want to disappoint his daddy, so he forces himself to remain still. He turns his head to watch his dad move around the room, a decision that is proven to be a bad one when the sight of him makes it even harder to resist fucking the bedspread.

His dad is beautiful, Stiles already knew that, but now that he can look without fear of being caught, it's even more apparent. He nearly drools when his dad opens the closet and crouches down to get something out of the chest of toys in the back. The position gives Stiles an excellent view of his dad's hairy ass, his muscular cheeks and the tight little hole between them. He wants his dad to suffocate him with it.

As if sensing his son's gaze, Derek looks back over his shoulder and smirks. "Ah, ah," he chides, "no peeking. This is meant to be a surprise."

Reluctantly, Stiles closes his eyes.

The time seems to pass more slowly after that. He only has his ears to rely on, but he doesn't hear anything. His dad moves so quietly that it makes him jump when he feels the mattress dip next to him.

"You know…you look amazing wearing my marks," Derek says.

Stiles doesn't know what his dad means right away, but when he feels a calloused finger running down the dip of his spine and then over his ass, he realises. He can't even imagine what his cheeks look like after the rigorous spanking he'd received. All he knows is that just his dad's finger is enough to worsen the sting of the enflamed skin, causing him to hiss through his teeth.

"That hurt?" Derek enquires, sounding concerned.

"Yeah," Stiles replies.

"I've got something here that should help."

Derek's hand leaves Stiles' body and then there comes the sound of a cap being opened and something squirting out. Stiles' first thought is that it's lube, but the slightly flowery scent that fills the air doesn't match up. He is about to ask what it is when his dad spreads it out across his ass cheeks. It's cold and immediately soothing, and Stiles sighs with relief.

"If it still hurts later, I can apply some more lotion then," his dad says, caressing his son's cheeks one last time before taking his hands away again.

Stiles stays compliant when he is turned over onto his front. He is moved slightly further up the bed so that his head rests on the pillows, and he gets a few seconds' reprieve before his dad grabs his arms and brings them up over his head, his wrists crossed over each other. His dad holds them there with one hand while he retrieves something with the other, but Stiles isn't paying attention to that.

He is too distracted by the scent that has just hit his nose. He finds its source quickly in his daddy's armpit, which is just a few inches from his face. The dark hairs are sweaty and musky because he hadn't showered before Stiles called him into the room, and Stiles wants ardently to bury his nose in it. He doesn't, though, because in the next second something cold and metallic is secured around his wrists, snapping him out of his staring. Stiles cranes his head back to inspect this new development and finds that he is securely bound to the headboard by a pair of handcuffs.

He briefly tests the bonds, but they don't give at all.

"Colour?" his dad asks.

Stiles swallows tightly and manages to choke out, "Still green."

"Good. Since this is your first time, we won't be doing anything too extreme today. But I do still have a couple of things planned for this scene. D'you want me to tell you?"

Stiles nods vigorously and looks away from the handcuffs just in time to see the smirk on his dad's lips.

"That's too bad," the man drawls, "because I'm not going to."

He bends over the side of the bed and picks something up off of the floor. Stiles can't see what it is right away because it's hidden in his dad's fist, but his curiosity doesn't go unnoticed. "You want to know what I've got, don't you?" the man teases, shuffling closer so that he is kneeling between his son's spread legs. He looks down at Stiles' cock and coos. "You look like you really need to come, baby. Do you need to come?"

Stiles nods again, but he is sure it won't be that easy. He is right.

"Hmm…I don't think I'm quite done with you yet, so we can't have that," Derek says, wrapping his other hand around Stiles' cock and holding it steady so that it points straight up in the air. "You've got a nice little cock, I have to say. You want daddy to give you your first blowjob?"

All Stiles can do to reply is moan, his hips bucking up into his dad's hand.

"I think that can be arranged, but first…"

When the object in his dad's fist is revealed, Stiles makes a displeased sound that has his dad's smirk widening. It's a plain black cock ring, which the man puts on him before he can even think of protesting. It's tight around the base of his dick, effectively cutting off any chance of him coming before his dad says so.

"No fair!" Stiles whines, looking imploringly up at his dad as if just that will be enough to get him to reconsider. It isn't.

"No complaining, baby," Derek admonishes. "Who's in charge here?"

"You are," Stiles murmurs.

"That's right. I know this is your first time, so I can't have you shooting your load without permission. This is to help you be good for me."

When his dad puts it that way, Stiles thinks it doesn't sound so bad. He still doesn't really like it, but he can manage for now, especially when his dad repositions himself so that he is lying down on his front in between his legs. This puts his dad's face right in front of Stiles' cock. He meets his son's wide eyes and maintains eye contact as he swallows him down all the way to the ring at the root, expertly taking him into his throat. It's clear to Stiles that his dad has had practice giving head, and the part of his brain that isn't filled with a stream of _fuck, fuck, FUCK_ is instead taken up by jealous thoughts.

As strong as they are, though, they are very soon drowned out by pleasure as his dad bobs his head up and down, his tongue wiggling against the underside of Stiles' cock. It feels amazing, his eyes rolling back in his head and his mouth dropping open on his loudest moan yet.

His dad sucks him off like that for a while, unleashing tricks Stiles had never known about or seen in any of the porn he has watched. It drives him crazy, especially since the cock ring does its job flawlessly, preventing him from coming. He is close, he knows that if the ring weren't there, he would have come already. It keeps him on the precipice, so close to tipping over the edge but never quite managing it. He nearly cries again with how much he wants it, but his dad doesn't remove the ring. His hands don't even stray toward it.

Instead, one cups Stiles' balls, rolling them in his large palm and lightly tugging on them, while the other ventures behind them. It skates over Stiles' perineum and prods at the plug still buried in his ass, making him jolt when the opposite end hits his prostate. The smugness in his dad's eyes tells Stiles that the man is aware of what he is doing. He curses loudly and wishes he could look away from his dad's face, but he can't stop staring at the stretch of his lips around him.

After pushing against the base of the plug a few more times, Derek switches things up. He grasps the plug and slowly pulls it out, causing Stiles to whimper as his hole clings to it all by itself, trying to keep it inside. His dad doesn't relent and keeps withdrawing the plug until it's all the way out and his hole is clenching on air, feeling horribly empty.

Thankfully, Derek doesn't leave him that way for long. A few moments later, the tapered tip of the small plug returns to Stiles' ass and presses inside once more, slicked up again with fresh lube to make the slide easier. Stiles' hole sucks it right in, but it doesn't stay.

Derek fucks him with the plug, slowly at first but gradually increasing the speed until it batters against Stiles' prostate. The teenager bites so hard into his bottom lip that he tastes blood. It's too much, to feel his dad's hot mouth around his cock and the constant stimulation of his prostate and yet be denied an orgasm. Before he can even think about it, he is gasping out, "Yellow!" and everything stops in an instant.

The plug is pulled from Stiles' ass and dropped onto the bedspread as Derek moves to the head of the bed to check on him. He cups Stiles' face and makes their eyes meet.

"Are you alright?" he asks softly, his thumb stroking back and forth over his son's cheekbone.

"Y-yeah…" Stiles stammers. "Just got too much for a sec."

Derek seems pleased, which confuses his son.

"What's with the face?" Stiles enquires, peering blearily up at his dad.

"Nothing. I'm just proud of you for using one of your safewords when you needed to. That was good."

"You're not mad?"

His dad smiles sweetly at him, his dominant persona on pause. "Of course not."

"Oh…good."

Derek hums and takes something small from the nightstand. Stiles sees a glint of silver in his dad's hand before his wrists are unlocked and the handcuffs join the butt plug at the foot of the bed. His arms are sore from being held above his head for so long and his wrists carry red marks from the cuffs, but his dad gets the blood flowing again and eases the ache by gently massaging over the marks and then kissing every inch of irritated skin. Stiles lets him do all of this without a word, but when he is done he speaks.

"Are we stopping?"

"No, not yet," his dad answers, sitting down on Stiles' left and pulling him up a bit so that they are both leaning back against the headboard. "You said yellow, not red, so we're just taking a break so you can gather your bearings again."

"That's good, because I didn't wanna stop yet, daddy."

"Me neither."

Derek rearranges them further, raising his arm and wrapping it around Stiles' shoulders. He pulls his son close and rests his chin atop his head.

"When will we start up again?" Stiles asks.

"Whenever you're ready. There's no rush. We've got all day, after all."

Both Hales lapse into silence then, a comfortable one. Stiles tucks his face into his dad's neck and just breathes him in. His scent is more potent that it would ordinarily be, thanks to the unwashed state of his body, but Stiles doesn't mind it. In fact, he delights in it, the kink he had discovered when his dad cuffed him coming back with a vengeance. He has to satiate it. As surreptitiously as possible, Stiles rubs his nose back and forth across the side of his dad's neck, moving lower every time until he reaches his collarbone.

"What're you doing, baby?" Derek asks him, that playful note back in his voice.

"I just wanna do something," Stiles says vaguely, unsure how his request will be received—or whether he is even allowed to make the request at all.

"And what's that?"

"It's gonna sound weird, but…" Stiles trails off, keeping his face hidden in his dad's skin so he doesn't have to look at him. It's fruitless, though.

"Stiles, look at me," Derek commands, guiding his head up with a finger beneath his chin.

Stiles' eyes skitter over his dad's face, looking at every feature but his eyes.

" _Stiles_."

The stern way his dad speaks his name is enough to have the teenager finally doing as requested, his submissive nature already taking hold after just an hour of obeying his new dominant.

"Yes?" he squeaks.

"Tell me what you want."

"I…it's weird."

Derek's hazel eyes soften slightly. "Tell me. Part of one of the rules was that we communicate, remember. I promise I won't judge you."

Stiles skirts around his true desires at first, still unable to make himself say the words he wants to say. "You smell nice," he offers, causing one of his dad's thick eyebrows to rise on his forehead.

"Really? I never showered after my run, though."

"That's…that's kinda why. I mean, you always smell nice, but I love how you smell now."

He knows it isn't enough, doesn't actually tell his dad what he wants to do next, but his dad is patient with him, gives him as much time as he needs to gather his nerve and continue speaking. It takes a stupidly long time for that to happen, but when Stiles has the nerve he needs, he forces the words out before it can desert him again.

"I wanna shove my face in your pits," he says, so quickly that the words blend together.

Derek frowns. "You want to what? I didn't catch that."

Stiles repeats himself more slowly, his face so hot he is sure it must be bright-red.

Realisation dawns in Derek's eyes and both eyebrows rise this time, but he is quick to get over his surprise. He grins salaciously. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"I guess," Stiles agrees, looking off to the side. "It's embarrassing, though."

"I don't think it is."

Stiles runs his tongue along his lips, a nervous tic. "You don't?"

"Baby, if you think what you just said is weird, you have _a lot_ to learn. I'm gonna have a lot of fun corrupting you."

"So you don't have a problem with it, daddy?"

"Not at all. In fact, since you followed the rules and used your safeword earlier, this can be like a reward for being good. Here."

Stiles is for a moment bemused when his dad releases his chin, but then his dad raises his right arm and tucks his hand behind his head, showing off the part of his body that had so caught Stiles' attention earlier.

The teenager stares at his dad's armpit and feels his mouth fill instantaneously with drool that he struggles to swallow. He can smell it already, and after glancing at his dad's face to double-check that he doesn't mind, he can't control himself any longer and just dives right in, practically smashing his face into the tufts of fine dark hair. He inhales deeply through his nose and moans when all he smells is the pungent scent of sweat, the deodorant his dad put on that morning and the unique spicy scent beneath all of that that belongs just to the man himself. All of it combined should probably make him feel queasy, but it just stokes the fires of arousal still burning away in his gut, pre-come beading at the tip of his poor deprived cock.

Even though Derek had finished his run almost two hours ago, the hairs of his armpit are still slightly damp, probably thanks to him keeping his arms down by his sides for the majority of that time. This means that the hairs were exposed to the drying effects of the air precious few times, something about which Stiles is ecstatic. He rubs his face up and down into his daddy's armpit, embedding the cloying yet arousing stench of it into his pores.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you, baby?" his dad asks rhetorically, tangling the fingers of his other hand in the hair on the back of Stiles' head to encourage him.

Stiles moans his agreement, bringing his tongue into play to taste his daddy's armpit sweat. He licks over the hair and savours the salty taste of it. He draws it into his mouth and sucks on it to make sure he gets every drop, not stopping until it gets weaker and he can't really detect it anymore, his daddy's armpit licked as clean as he can get it with his mouth.

The taste of his dad's skin is still nice, but he wants more of the old sweat and so removes his face from his dad's right armpit and noses across his hairy chest to get to the left one. Derek obliges, extracting his fingers from his son's hair and raising his left arm to grant the boy easy access. Stiles is no less wanting when it comes to this second pit, but he takes things slower, not wanting to finish with it quite so quickly. He makes happy little noises as he noses into the sweat-damp hairs and relaxes where he is stretched across his dad's torso, practically covering him like a blanket.

The man doesn't seem to care.

Instead of pressing him harder into his armpit with a hand on the back of his head, this time Stiles feels his dad's fingers dancing across his back, apparently content to let him take as long as he wants luxuriating in the stench of his other armpit. With most of his mental faculties shut down again, Stiles doesn't figure out what his dad is doing until the actions are repeated and he spots a pattern. While he waits for his son to finish with his rank pits, his dad is playing Connect the Dots with the moles on his back, a realisation that has Stiles smiling to himself.

Eventually, even his deliberate slowness can't stop his dad's second armpit from being licked clean. Stiles is saddened, but as he rubs his face in the dark tufts of hair one last time he tempers his disappointment by telling himself that this will likely happen again. His dad works out regularly to maintain his impressive physique, and Stiles will be damned if he doesn't reap the benefits of that.

"All done, baby?" Derek asks when Stiles leaves his armpit.

"Yeah…for now," the teenager replies, pleased to discover that, even though he isn't directly smelling his dad's pits anymore, his efforts weren't for naught and he can still smell them on his own face. He hopes it lasts a long time.

"You okay to continue our scene then?"

Stiles nods eagerly and lets his dad slip out from beneath him. At his dad's instruction, he moves to the middle of the bed and waits on his hands and knees, facing the headboard.

"Now, I know this is your first time, and I've already put you through a lot today," Derek says from behind him, "so we won't be doing much more in this scene. Besides, I think I've been denying myself your ass for long enough, don't you?"

Stiles feels something slick prodding at his hole and pushes back against it, missing having something inside of him.

"Ah, no moving, baby," Derek reprimands, both hands curling around Stiles' hips to hold him in place. "Just let me do all the work. I'll take good care of you. You trust me, right?"

"Of course," is Stiles reply. He is confused as to why neither of his dad's hands feels wet, but he doesn't question it.

"Good. Now, hold still and let me make you feel good."

Stiles does as he is told when that same slick something prods at his hole. His dad's hands are still gripping his hips, though, so it can't be a finger. But then what is it? Perhaps his head was broken by everything they have done so far, because it takes far too long for him to figure out that it's his dad's fucking _tongue_ pressing against his most intimate place. His eyes widen with the realisation just as the slick muscle begins swirling around his hole, and he has to work hard to keep his hips still like his dad wants. His dad is _rimming_ him. Fuck.

Stiles is glad he wore the plug earlier, because it means his ass is still stretched enough that his dad's tongue can slide inside without much trouble. Feeling it wriggling around inside of him is indescribable. Stiles knows now why all the young bottoms in the porn he watched seemed to go crazy when the older tops would do this to them. He knew it must have felt pretty good, but never did he think it would be quite as amazing as it is.

"You taste so good, baby," Derek says, right against Stiles' ass. "You've got such a pretty little hole, too. And it's all mine, isn't it?"

"Y-yours!" Stiles gasps at the same time as his dad's tongue returns, even deeper this time. "I'm all yours…"

With the new depth comes the added sensation of his dad's beard scraping against his raw cheeks. It stings, but not enough to detract from the pleasure Stiles is experiencing. He is sure he will have beard burn in interesting places the next day, and he can't wait.

His dad keeps licking into him for several minutes before he changes things up, making things even more intense. With his tongue still inside of his son's ass, he seals his lips around Stiles' rim and then sucks on it hard, causing Stiles to wail at the unexpected pleasure that shoots up his spine. He falls off of his hands and goes crashing down, the side of his face ending up smushed into the bedspread at an awkward angle that hurts his neck, but he doesn't care. He can't possibly care about anything because his dad keeps rhythmically sucking on his rim. He wonders if it will always be like this, if his dad's touches will always drive him this crazy or if it's just because this is his first time.

He hopes it's the former.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Stiles feels his dad's tongue leave his hole and is about to voice his disapproval when it is replaced by two thick fingers sliding in straight to the last knuckle. Both fingers together are about as wide as the butt plug Stiles had stolen, so it isn't a lot to take. And yet it feels like it is, possibly because of the suddenness.

"You're so tight, baby boy," his dad rasps from behind him, sliding his fingers out and then in again. "I can't wait to know what you feel like around my cock."

Stiles can't wait, either.

"Have you ever done this to yourself before?" Derek asks him, his fingers stilling.

"Y-yeah," Stiles pants into the sheets, his body filling with relief when those thick digits start moving again.

"And how many have you done?"

"Just enough for the plug."

"Did you imagine it was my fingers stretching you open like they are now?"

"Yeah…"

"And how do the real things compare?"

Stiles thinks his dad is being particularly cruel, trying to have a conversation while he is being fingered open for the first time and can't think straight. It takes serious effort to keep enough air in his lungs, never mind form words. "It's so much better, daddy," he says, ending on a high-pitched whine because his dad chose that moment to curl his fingers and brush against his prostate.

"Ah, there it is," Derek says, his smirk evident in his voice.

A third finger slides in beside the first two and then all three assault Stiles' prostate with fervour that has the boy's eyes clenching shut, fireworks going off behind his eyelids. He fails at holding himself still then, shoving back on his dad's fingers in an impossible attempt to get them deeper inside. Luckily for him, this infraction is either not noticed by his dad or his dad isn't inclined to punish him for it in any way. The former option seems much more likely, but that's as far as Stiles can think on it before a fourth and final finger is easing past the ring of his asshole and his dad fucks him with all four of them.

"You look amazing all stretched out like this," Derek rasps, how turned on he is causing his voice to drop lower than Stiles ever remembers hearing it. "We won't do it today because I _have_ to get my cock in you as soon as possible, but I bet I can stretch you out even further than this, can't I? And your greedy ass will take everything I could give it. Think you could manage my entire fist one day, baby? I think you could."

"Daddy!" Stiles cries out, arching his back when his dad's fingers go deeper than before and he can feel the ridges of his dad's knuckles against his hole.

"But that's for another time," the man carries on, giving his son's prostate one last good rub before extracting his fingers.

Stiles stays on his knees and nearly sobs, being left empty after being filled so deliciously bringing his tumultuous emotions to the surface. He knew before this started that he would love having his dad inside of him, but he didn't realise just how much he would _need_ it. He needs it almost more than he needs to breathe, as if nothing in the world will be right until he has something filling him up again. It's startling, causes new tears to spring to his eyes.

"Shh…it's okay, baby," Derek soothes, getting up onto his own knees and moulding his front to his son's back. He peppers kisses across Stiles' broad shoulders and wraps his arm around his son's chest to pull him more snugly against him. "I've got you."

"Need you," Stiles whimpers.

"You'll get me," his dad promises, rolling his hips so that his cock slips in between the boy's cheeks. "You feel me?"

"Yeah…" The anticipation makes Stiles' heart beat so fast he can hear it in his ears.

"Alright, let's get you in position, baby boy."

Derek's weight leaves Stiles' back and then he guides his son back up onto his hands. It's difficult for Stiles to hold himself up because his arms are so shaky, but he wants to be good for his daddy and makes himself stay where he has been put. He arches his back when his dad presses down lightly in the middle of it, and then he feels his dad thrust between his cheeks a few more times, the head of his huge cock catching on his stretched rim.

"Alright," his dad says, his left hand on Stiles' hip while he presumably points his cock at Stiles' hole with his right. "I'm gonna push in now. If you need me to stop at any point, remember your safewords."

"O-okay, daddy," Stiles stammers.

He tries to keep himself relaxed and open when he feels the head of his dad's cock prod at his hole and start to slip inside, but he fails and can't stop his hole from clenching up tight, forcing his dad out again. He takes a deep breath because, despite his body's natural reaction to being invaded by something bigger than it has had inside of it up until this point, even thicker than all four of his dad's fingers, he wants this. He meant it earlier when he said he wants his dad to take him and fuck him and love him, and he won't let this slip through his grasp now that he is so close to being with his dad the way he has always desired.

"Try again," Stiles says.

For a second time he feels his dad's cock pushing against his hole, but now he keeps taking deep breaths and manages to keep himself relaxed long enough for the head to slip inside. His dad gives him a few seconds to get used to that and then he moves even more, pushing the next few inches inside. He doesn't sheathe himself to the hilt immediately, though. Instead, he withdraws what he already has inside and repeatedly pushes it back in, fucking his son with about half of his substantial length before he tries to give him the second half.

When Stiles' body stops shaking and he isn't clamping down so tightly on his shaft, Derek feeds him the remaining inches until all nine are surrounded by the boy's virginal walls. Stiles is left breathless by the feeling of fullness, the scratch of his dad's pubic hair against his still-red cheeks. It's a lot to take. Even with how much he has been prepped, it hurts, but already he knows he will become addicted to being stuffed full of his dad's cock. He clenches down on it experimentally and giggles when he hears his dad groan behind him.

"Stop that, baby," the man commands, pinching his hip. "I don't think I could control myself if you do that again and I don't want to move until you're ready."

"Fine," Stiles assents with a sigh.

The two of them remain in that position for a few moments as Stiles' body acclimates to being taken in this way. As soon as it has, Stiles looks at his dad over his shoulder and nods. "Okay, you can move now."

"Oh, thank God!" Derek withdraws until just the head of his cock is inside his son and then thrusts back in.

His eyelids fluttering, Stiles tangles his fingers in the bottom sheet and doesn't quite know what to do with himself. In the end, he settles for doing nothing, recalling what his dad had said before fingering him and letting him do all the work, at least until he is told otherwise. His dad thrusts into him gently at first, every thrust unfalteringly slow, but the longer it goes on without Stiles reacting more than to moan his pleasure, he picks up the pace of his thrusts little by little.

Soon enough he is fucking his son hard, their skin slapping together every time he fucks in all the way. The pain from Stiles' spanking flares up again, but it isn't bad enough for Stiles to ask his dad to stop. In fact, since the pain in his ass cheeks isn't as bad as it was immediately after he was punished, it only heightens the pleasure. He is momentarily stunned by the discovery of this new kink, but he embraces it quickly and encourages his dad to fuck him harder, faster.

"Yeah? You like having your daddy's big cock inside you, don't you, slut?" Derek grits out behind him, his hands moving from Stiles' hips to curl around his shoulders.

"I love it!" Stiles gasps out, barely able to talk with how hard he is being fucked. "Feels so good!"

"You do, too, baby. Your ass was just made for me, wasn't it?"

"Yeah…yours!"

"Yeah it is. I made it, and I'm gonna ruin you for anyone else. No one else will ever get to feel how amazing you are."

Stiles' next moan tapers off into a whine when his daddy bends down over him again and latches his teeth onto the side of his neck. Derek nips and sucks on the sensitive skin while he keeps fucking him, adding more marks to his body to match the livid red handprints on his ass cheeks. Stiles tilts his head to the side, giving his daddy easier access to his neck because he wants to wear those marks.

No one else can know where they came from, but he will love keeping the dirty secret that it was his own father that made them. That it was his own father's cock he loved taking up his ass, his own father's come he hopes he'll soon be filled with.

"You mark up so easily," Derek comments against Stiles' neck, his breath and words hot. "Gonna make you wear my marks all the time so you never forget who you belong to."

"Daddy!"

"You want that, baby?"

Stiles nods his vehement agreement but then is bemused when the warmth and weight of his dad disappears from atop him and he is left suddenly empty. He is about to ask what's going on, but then his vision blurs as he is grabbed and flipped over onto his back. His dad pushes his way in between his legs and covers him again, leaning on his elbows so that his forearms are on either side of Stiles' head.

"Wanna see you," the man explains, noticing the confusion on his son's face.

Stiles doesn't have a problem with this. What he _does_ have a problem with, however, is the emptiness of his ass. To remedy this, he wraps his legs around his dad's hips and pulls him in closer. The angle is almost immediately perfect, his daddy's cock nearly entering him again, but then it slips past his hole at the last second and comes to rest over his balls.

"You really want it, don't you?" Derek says, grinning lasciviously. "Don't forget it's me who's in charge here, though. You'll get my cock again when I say you do."

Stiles pouts. "But I'm so empty…"

"Aww, poor baby," Derek sympathises, kissing his son on the tip of his nose. "You're so cute when you pout."

"Am not…"

"Are, too, baby. You're adorable. Always have been."

Feeling his face heat up, Stiles looks down between them instead of into his dad's eyes. "Can you fuck me again? Pretty please?"

"Because you asked me so nicely, I'll take mercy on you this time."

Derek reaches between their bodies and grips his cock around the base, aiming it right for his son's hole. It's already so loose and open that he just goes right in without any trouble.

Stiles tips his head back and whimpers. He expects the fast fucking to recommence, but it doesn't. Instead, his dad moves inside of him slow and syrupy, gentle thrusts that brush against his prostate every two or three times. It's obviously different than being fucked hard, but it's in no way less amazing. In fact, as much as Stiles had enjoyed being taken from behind by his daddy, he thinks that maybe he likes this just a little bit more.

In their current position, as well as feeling his dad, he can see him. The man is holding himself up with his arms fully extended now, his hands where his elbows were just a minute ago. He stares steadily down at Stiles, watching his every reaction. Stiles stares back, looking up into his dad's beautiful eyes, unable to look away even if he wanted to. It's like there is some tether holding them together, a tether made of the strongest material that neither of them can break or cut.

The sex up until now had been wonderful, rough and aggressive as his dad made him submit to his will like the perfect dominant, but this is something else. It's softer, more tender, his dad showing him with actions just how much he means to him. It's _making love_. Stiles' heart swells in his chest and he feels choked up with the wealth of emotion he sees in his dad's expression.

Finally, it gets to be too much and he has to do something. He raises his hands from where they had been clutching the bedding by his sides and grabs his dad's bearded face to drag him down into a kiss. Just like their first, it's messy and sloppy and there are too many teeth involved, but Stiles doesn't care. He thinks he can taste his own ass on his dad's tongue, a thought that makes his cock ache where it rests against his stomach. It has gone untouched ever since his dad stopped blowing him earlier, and with everything else his dad did to him since then he has been able to ignore it. But he can't ignore it any longer.

"Daddy, I need to come!" he cries against his dad's lips.

"How badly, baby?" Derek asks, all the while making love to him.

"It hurts. Need it so bad," Stiles answers, sliding his arms beneath his dad's and digging his blunt nails into the muscles of his back.

"Hmm…alright, baby, I'll let you come," the bearded man relents, again reaching between them to grasp his son's cock.

Stiles arches into him when he feels him tug at the cock ring that has been preventing him from achieving orgasm for what feels like hours. When the rubber is pulled off, he expects for a moment for his dad to jerk him off, but his hand leaves him altogether and moves up to twist and pinch his right nipple instead, sending little shocks down his spine.

"D-daddy!"

"You can come, baby. Whenever you're ready. But you have to do it on my cock alone."

Stiles makes a piteous sound at his dad's words, unsure if he can. He has never come untouched before, has never even contemplated it, but he'll have to if he wants to finally have relief. And he does. Like he told his daddy, he _needs_ it. He is sure he'll never get there if he keeps thinking about it, though, so he tries to switch off that part of his brain and just sink into everything his dad is making him feel.

The huge, heavenly cock inside of his ass, filling him up like he has fantasised about for years.

The heat of his dad over him.

The scent of him, still musky and strong.

The sight of him, the sweaty state of his skin, beads of it forming on his forehead with how much he had exerted himself fucking his son earlier. The sweat drips down onto Stiles' face, but he doesn't find it gross. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Stiles runs his eyes over every inch of his daddy that he can see and finds nothing wanting. He zeroes in on his dad's chest, covered in a field of dark hair apart from where two dusky nipples peek out enticingly. If their positions allowed for it, Stiles would take one of them in his mouth and suckle on it like a babe at their mother's breast. As it is, he settles for the fantasy and digs his nails harder into his dad's back when he finally— _finally_ —feels his orgasm approaching.

It's like a fire burning along a trail of oil until it hits the source and ignites with an awe-inspiring explosion. All Stiles sees is white, come jetting from the slit of his abused cock to paint both of their abdomens. His orgasm lasts a long time, prolonged by his dad's larger cock repeatedly brushing against his prostate. His mouth is open wide on a soundless scream, and when it ends he is completely boneless, his arms falling from around his dad's back to hit the mattress. He can't move for anything.

With Stiles taken care of, Derek increases the rapidity of his thrusts to the same blistering pace he had maintained while the boy was on his hands and knees. He fucks him without care and doesn't stop until, with one last thrust that leaves him buried inside as far as he can go, he comes as well. He shoots his thick load deep up in his son's guts, claiming him from the inside as well.

He stays hovering above Stiles for a couple of minutes while he catches his breath, and then he slowly pulls out. By then, Stiles has recovered from his orgasm as well, blinking up at him with a cheeky sated smile on his lips that Derek can't help but return. He strokes back the hair from his son's sweaty forehead and props himself up on his elbow next to him, neither one of them needing to say anything yet. He runs his hand down Stiles' body until he reaches his stomach, at which point he swirls his fingers through the come drying on his pale skin. Stiles just lies there and lets him, his cock giving a valiant twitch when his dad takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks off his come.

"Ugh, don't do that…" Stiles complains.

Pausing, Derek looks down at Stiles with a frown. "Why? Do you not like it?"

"No…I like it a lot. That's the problem. I can't go again yet."

Derek laughs but stops nevertheless. Instead, he moves his fingers between Stiles' legs and tentatively slips two inside of his ass.

"What're you doing? I just said I couldn't go again yet."

"I know, baby. I'm just checking to make sure you're alright."

"Oh."

Stiles can't quite hide his discomfort when the fingers go deep and feel around.

"Does that hurt?" Derek asks him, his dominant side replaced completely by the caring father.

"A bit."

"Okay," Derek accepts, removing his fingers from Stiles' body. They don't come out bloody but instead just slathered in his own thick come, so he seems to accept that his son will be fine and holds them up in front of Stiles' lips. "Want some?"

Stiles does. He gladly opens his mouth for his dad's fingers and licks off the milky viscous fluid. It's salty and bitter, a bit like his armpit sweat, but it's so good at the same time. Stiles wishes he had more of it to taste, but he is also glad that the rest of it is still inside of him.

When his fingers are clean, Derek pulls them out of Stiles' mouth, kicks the butt plug and the handcuffs off of the bed and yanks the sheets up over both of them. He takes Stiles into his arms and kisses his forehead. "You did so well, baby," he compliments, allowing Stiles to use his chest as a pillow.

"Yeah?" Stiles responds quietly, his voice muffled.

"Yeah," Derek confirms.

"What happens now?"

"I'm not sure," Derek admits. "It…it's still so wrong, but I can't give you up. Not now that I have you. We'll just have to be careful."

Accepting this and trusting his dad to take care of everything, Stiles tells him that he loves him and gives in to the exhaustion that is threatening to pull him under. Just before he succumbs completely, he hears his dad return the sentiment and knows that everything will be okay.

* * *

Almost a year after Stiles and his dad took their relationship to the next level, Stiles gets home from school again and remembers how it all started, how things have progressed since the afternoon he found his dad in the kitchen with Kate Argent.

It wasn't easy for either of them to navigate their new relationship. It took weeks and months for Stiles and his dad to find a good balance between Derek being Stiles' father and his dominant, to have a clear demarcation between the two personas. But they managed it.

Most of Stiles' things remain in his own bedroom to keep up appearances, but Stiles hardly ever sleeps in there anymore. Instead, he sleeps cuddled up to his daddy in his daddy's bed, apart from every now and then when he will disobey him so badly that he is sent to his own room for the night. Each of the different infractions that result in this punishment are one-time occurrences, because having to sleep in a cold bed without his daddy's arms around him is torture.

They've made plans, too.

They decided that, when Stiles graduates high school and goes off to college, he will go somewhere far away from Beacon Hills, somewhere no one knows him. His dad will come with him and they will hide the familial aspect of their relationship instead of the romantic one, living openly as a couple. Stiles looks forward to being able to do something as simple as hold his dad's hand in public. He knows people will still stare because of the age difference, but the strangers won't know they are doing anything illegal, and that's what matters.

Stiles smiles to himself and stops his reminiscing just as his dad comes to meet him in the foyer.

"Hi, baby," he greets, kissing his son deeply.

"Hey, daddy," Stiles says when his lips are free. He now calls his dad by this name whenever they are home alone together, not just during a scene.

"Do you have any homework?"

"Nope. I did it all during homeroom."

"Excellent."

The next thing Stiles knows, his black leather collar is secured around his throat and his daddy is tugging him through the house by the leash attached to it.

"I've got a lot planned for you tonight, baby boy," Derek promises. "Gonna put you through your paces."

Stiles can't wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was an extra long one. In fact, I think this was the single longest piece of smut I've written since the epilogue of my very first fic, but somehow I don't think any of you will mind that one bit. :P
> 
> This prompt was similar in concept to another one I fulfilled earlier in this filthy little series ( _Staking a Claim_ ), but this time it had Stiles coming on to his dad instead of the other way around, and it had no rape/non-con elements. I decided to make it so that Stiles is actually Derek's biological son this time, rather than him being adopted (I admit, the taboo was kind of hot). I also just couldn't resist having the tables turn after the initial seduction, because the thought of full-on dom!Derek was just too good to resist and I hadn't yet included that in this series. I _also_ couldn't stop myself from giving Stiles an armpit kink again, because, let's be real, Derek's armpits are super hot. I regret nothing.
> 
> A big thank you to [Mulder200](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Mulder200/pseuds/Mulder200) and [clavius](http://archiveofourown.org/users/clavius/pseuds/clavius) for this prompt. I couldn't include everything you guys wanted, but I hope this still satisfies you. If anyone else has suggestions for other PWPs they would like to see me tackle, even if you've had a prompt filled by me before, feel free to leave them in a comment down below and, as long as they don't feature something I don't like, I'll try to make them happen. _All_ suggestions are welcome, as long as they're Sterek M/M. I'm really in the mood to write smut right now, so get it while the getting's good! ;)
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future fics go live, which will all be Sterek. I've got some good stuff planned. And feel free to check out my past fics if you haven't already. They're good, too.**


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